120 There is only one Arnel. It lets fleece machine-wash! . ...... w- ,<-. };/Ñ ":# (, f r y , '" -:. -'. <: .': ,vi@>' ', j(. r... . .,.-.N :, 4: :/ l * :::::,'. :t:' :f! .jt -/ "'. . , \.,:, . , ,>>: ^ "j- . ' ,.# . , ' . ... :-..: -i:. ^...:<. -(:y....... .' ". '" ,f t " I ,t, ...::; The new Oriental slant-warm and washable with Arnel. Dorian Macksoud s negligee aglow with metallic braid, for gracious evenings at home. Burlington's brushed fleece of Arnel triacetate and nylon. In red, royal, aqua or white. Sizes 8 to 18. About $35. At B. Altman & Co., New York; MarshaU Field & Company, Chicago; Woodward & Lothrop, Washington. .Þ Ii Celanese@ Arnel@ '- CONTEMPORARY FIBERS I am, how all I want to do now is crawl on my knees and pray," he said. "That stuff don't ring with me. I can't ac- cept overnight what I've always de- nied. The truth is, you've done more for me than any what you call God ever has. Or ever will. By writIng to me. By signing yourself 'friend.' When I had no friends. Except Joe James." Joe James, he explained, was a young Indian logger with whom he had once lived in a forest near Bellingham, Washington. "That's a long way from Garden City. A good two thousand miles. But I sent word to Joe. About the trouble I'm in. Joe's a poor guy, he's got seven kids to feed. But he promised to come here, if he had to walk. He hasn't shown up yet, and maybe he won't, only I think he will. Joe always liked me. Do you, Don?" " Y I l ' k " es. 1 e you. Cullivan's softly emphatic answer pleased but rather flustered Perry. He smiled, -tJ and said, "Then you must be some kind of nut." Sud- denly rising, he crossed the cell and picked up the broom. "I don't know why I should die among strangers. Let a bunch of prairiebil- lies stand around and watch me stran- gle. I ought to kill mvself first." He lifted the broom and pressed the bris- tles against the light bulb that burned in the ceiling. "Just unscrew the bulb and smash it and cut my wrists. That's what I ought to do. While you're still here. Somebody who cares about me a little bit." T HE trial resumed on Monday mornIng at ten o'clock. Ninety minutes later, the court adjourned, the case for the defense having been com- pleted in that brief time. The defend- ants, who had pleaded not guilty by reason of temporary insanity, declined to testify in their own behalf. There- fore, the question of whether Hickock or Smith had been the actual execu- tioner of the Clutter family did not arIse. Of the fi ve witnesses who did ap- pear that morning, the first was the hollow-eyed l\1r. Hickock. Though he spoke with a dignified and mournful clanty, he had but one contribution to make that was relevant to a claim of temporary insanity. His son, he said, had suffered head injuries in a car acci- dent in July, 1950. Prior to the acci- dent, Dick had been a "happy-go-lucky boy." He had done well in school, and been popular with his classmates and considerate of his parents-"no trouble to anybody." Harnson Smith, gently guiding the witness, said, "I will ask you if, after July, 1950, you observed any change in the personality and the habits and the actions of your son, Richard?" "He just didn't act like the san1e boy. " "What were the changes you ob- served? " Mr. Hickock, between pensive hes- itations, lIsted several: Dick was sulky and restless, he ran around with older men, he drank and gambled. "He just wasn't the same boy." The last assertion was immediately challenged by Logan Green, who un- dertook the cross-examination. "Mr. Hickock, you say you never had any trouble with your son until after 1950?" "I think he got arrested in 1949 " Green smiled, and asked, "Remember what he was ar- rested for?" "He was accused of break- ing into a drugstore." "Accused? Didn't he admit that he broke into the store? " "That's right, he did." "And that was in 1949 . Yet now you tell us your son had a change in his attitude and conduct after 1 9 5 O? " " I ld " wou say so, yes. "You mean that after 1 9 5 0 he be- came a good boy? " Hard coughs agitated the old man. "No," he said, "I wouldn't say that." "Then what was the change that took place? " "vVell, that would be pretty hard to eXplain. He just didn't act like the same boy. " "You mean he lost his crimin l d . "I " ten enCIes r The lawyer's sally induced guf- faws-a courtroom flareup that Judge Tate's dour gaze soon extinguished. Mr. Hickock, presently set free, was replaced on the stand by Dr. W. Mitchell Jones. Dr. Jones identified himself to the court as a "physician specializing in the field of psychiatry," and, in support of his qualifications, added that he had attended perhaps fifteen hundred patients since 1956, the year he entered a psychiatric resi- dency at Topeka State Hospital. For the past two years, he had served on the staff of Larned State Hospital, where he was in charge of the Dillon Build- ing, a section reserved for the criminal- ly insane. Harrison Smith asked the wItness,